


we all fall down

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-28
Updated: 2008-08-28
Packaged: 2019-01-19 14:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12411999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: He didn’t spend his time draped across a couch, swinging a bottle of alcohol to his mouth every five seconds and reveling in the intoxicating poison that ran through his veins. After all, he told himself, power was hardly poisonous. There was no way it could harm him, not when he was so untouchable.





	we all fall down

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**A/N: I’m always accused of defending people I don’t even know, simply because I choose to emphasize and see what they’re seeing. It’s a nasty fault of mine sometimes, but it can come in handy when I'm writing.  
**

****

 

 

****\----

__I can make anybody go to prison_ _

__Just because I don't like them and_ _

__I can do anything with no permission_ _

__I have it all under my command_ _

**\- Handlebars,** The Flobots

_****_\----

 

 

 

_we all fall down_

 

 

 

For as long as he could remember, he had been addicted.

He never really considered it an addiction. It wasn’t like those bizarre obsessions the Muggles complained about, at any rate. He didn’t spend his time draped across a couch, swinging a bottle of alcohol to his mouth every five seconds and reveling in the intoxicating poison that ran through his veins.

After all, he told himself, power was hardly poisonous. There was no way it could harm him, not when he was so untouchable, not when he knew what he was doing.

He wasn’t some foolish little boy. He couldn’t be tricked into the belief that he had control simply because he could ride his bicycle; he knew that’s where the mistakes were made. Because the moment you lifted your hands off those handlebars, besotted with your supremacy, well, that was when you fell off and scraped your knees.

He thought he was always aware that someone could overpower him in the blink of an eye if they so desired, and that this someone would probably have more control than him.

Power was deceiving like that; one moment it had you thinking you were the master and the next moment the slave. The problem with him was that he hadn’t been the slave in a long time. Such a long time, in fact, that he had simply forgotten he could be.

He supposed that’s why he was defeated. He had lifted his hands from the handlebars for just a moment, to bask in his power, and he had fallen off.

 

Only this time, he wasn’t so sure he could climb back on.

 

 

 

 


End file.
